


he is, most of all

by tnevmucric



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: First Kiss, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Second Person, let them be in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 11:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tnevmucric/pseuds/tnevmucric
Summary: you want to make a forest of a moment and live in that forest for ever





	he is, most of all

Quiet people piss you off.

Reaction will tell you a lot about a person; why a person is the the way they are, what a person is thinking, even what a person values and believes. In the paralysing acknowledgement that yes, _you are your own reflection,_ you can't judge your own features. You pinch yourself. You can't figure out the small twitch of your eyebrow and you grow focused on the dry spots of skin. Your lips stay pressed. You think your reflection mocks you.

It's probably raining somewhere.

These past few months have never felt more tiringly desperate. It's been a long week. Tonight is a warm night for the season and your hands ache under the lethargic flow of water. It's like the molecules aren't trying. Your internal clock has a dreadful sense that time is running out, and when you swish the shrine water in your mouth, you try to ignore the taste of blood from your cheek. Your knees are wet, and you feel an uncomfortable pain in your back. You hide your shaking hands under your armpits.

You have see through cartilage. Your bones are empty.

His footsteps breathe life into the stone pavement. You hesitate to listen. In your periphery, you see him tilt his head. Water continues to soak the fabric over your knees.

"I thought I'd find you here", Akira says, with no inflection or accent. Like a whisper and a shout. His voice is like all colours combined, creating the blandest of browns. You strain to hear it. He steps behind you and his shadow casts over both you and the fountain. His arms arc up, and you soon feel the soft wool of his scarf around your neck. It is limp and yellow, and reminds you of golden-rayed lilies.

"It's cold", he says again and kneels beside you. You bury your nose in the scarf.

"Thank you."

He cleans his hands and decides not to wash his mouth out. The interaction reminds you of someone from your dreams... suddenly you feel desolate. This is your own world, your own climate and you have your own rules. (You can destroy it if you want). You close your eyes. It's as if your self-imposed emptiness is a tangible object inside of you.

Does it hurt?

"I saw something in the middle of the night", you say, your hands sliding away from your body and folding down in your lap: they remind you of limp petals. "It was perfect, but it's gone forever, now. Sometimes I can see it flickering. This thing only I can see. I reach out and... and nothing. It's like everything melts away." You clench and unclench your fists. Your skin looks sickly, you might be coming down with a cold. "You remind me of someone in my dreams." A resigned smile curves your mouth, barely touching your own life yet so ready for the next one. "You make me feel tired." Akira frowns.

"I'm sorry." You shake your head.

"It reminds me I'm still breathing. Not a lot does that, what with... everything." A short, humorless breath, drops your head into your hands. "Everything is just... so much."

"You could go somewhere else."

The things he says at the station, at Leblanc, the things he says that make you feel like shit and the things he mentions when you're a rotting corpse- they've stuck, they anchor and they don't hurt. You look up at him; he stares at the water.

You get overwhelmed easily and don't handle prisons too well. It's a horrible feeling, like you're trapped inside a cage.

"Where?", you ask. He fixes you with an open view. His eyes remind you of the French doors in your father's office.

"Anywhere you want", he replies.

You test the words. _Anywhere you want._ "Where would you go?"

He thinks for a long moment.

"Seattle. I hear it's nice during the summer."

"Seattle."

The stars above you begin to move for the birds, crows cawing for the morning to come. A hint of dawn touches the blackest parts of the sky and your bones waver- they itch. You fold yourself against him, under the shade of the shrine and the warmth of his side. Your hands are tight around your own waist but you press your cheek comfortably by his neck.

He holds you. He's taller, calmer and safe. He is in control. He's someone you can hold onto and someone so close to divinity that you feel a little cleaner.

"Do you need to talk?"

Your nails drag up to your chest with the formality of craft scissors. You twist in his words. You pull.

"It's dark. It's so dark here." The sound of your fist against your ribs is empty. Akira's hands are pliant and feminine and clasp at your wrist, pulling it to his lap. The scarf feels tight around your neck. With a desperation you feel ashamed of, you tangle your fingers in his, knotting them uncomfortably as if to find some kind of purchase. Just your hands, clasped so tight. You're waiting for a spark that won't come.

"Why are you trying so hard to be... _with_ me."

"You're so tired", Akira's fingertip traces the wrinkles on your thumb. "Someone needs to be kind to you. I want to be kind to you."

"You're probably the only person who thinks that."

"Am I?" His forehead knocks your temple. "I think you'll find that if you pay enough attention, a lot of people care about you. But you know that, dont you? You're always paying attention."

"You notice a lot more than you let on, too."

"Not really", he doesn't smile, "I'm just always looking for you."

Your voice aches and sounds frail. It's like you haven't used it in a long time.

"Why?"

"You're who I want to spend my time with."

This moment you have is precious. You don't know long you'll get to indulge yourself like this- that's a lie. You know how long you have left.

If you keep your eyes open long enough, you're sure you can see the timer above his head. His lips are moving and your ears struggle to catch on.

"Do you want to die?"

A blithe shock settles in your toes. You are so tired.

"I'm not sure how to answer."

"Some things you say", Akira presses, "The way you act. Do you ever think that maybe you're trying to adopt a kind of persona so it's easier to cope?"

You watch him immediately wince.

"I don't mean to overstep your boundaries. You don't need to answer."

"You're okay", you find that you reply easily. "I don't mind." And yet you usually would. Or is that a lie too?

You're just a kid who wants to be asked the right questions. You're still in school.

"I dont want you to think I'm trying to fix you", Akira insists. "If anything, I want to get to know you for how _you_ know you."

Your body relaxes, but your mind festers. It is here you learn the game he wants to play. Will you let him convince you?

"If I die, I don't want to reincarnate. I don't want to be a ghost. I don't  want to exist. If I'm a ghost I'll still exist and if I reincarnate I'll still be another person- but I'll be gone. Something will have robbed me of me. I want nothing and I don't even want to be capable of registering that nothing. Life after death terrifies me, which stops me. If I have nothing left here, no possible hope, then I don't want to exist. If I have nothing here, I want nothing there."

You've been thinking about this for a long time.

"You've been thinking about this for a long time."

Perhaps he has X-Ray vision for the mind. "There isn't much time left to think about it."

"Who told you that?"

You smile at him. In your head, you can see yourself smiling at him: small, dishevelled and damp. Your hair is a mess. "I've got a hunch."

With him, you have always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of home. You used to spend hours thinking about it, remembering it with such blazing accuracy even though it didn't matter. How was he the only home you had on earth? You didn't know. You still don't. Your mouth feels dry. Now, all you know is that years flow by like water, and that one day everyone goes home.

"I want to kiss you."

Akira's hands are fiercely contingent. They remind you of blue butterflies. He strokes either side of your face and his eyes are so wide and gentle. Not in shock, but anticipation.

"I'll let you." You want to cover yourself in his skin.

"I've never kissed someone."

"You've probably imagined it though, right? It's easy", his fingers tuck your hair behind your ears (it's grown so long), "You don't even need to think about it."

"What if I'm not good?"

He smiles at you: promising.

"Then you're not good. I'll like it anyway; it's you."

"It's me. Akira."

"Yeah?"

You can smell the running water of the shrine when you brace your palms on Akira's thighs. It's cold but present, and the scarf tickles your nose when it drops clumsily away from your chin. One of his hands rubs your arm like it's cold and the other is dormant on your cheek. It has been such a long life for you.

The kiss is quiet. You share a breath and it feels like falling down the stairs in slow-motion and record time. You're unscathed. His lips promote an adoring smile when you pull away and his eyes sparkle. You feel your face grow warm.

"Was I bad?", you ask instinctively. Akira, bright and agitating to the eye, laughs and shakes his head.

"No, Goro. You were great." He steals another kiss, a simple peck to the corner of your mouth. You withstand the damage. "You're so lovely."

You're happy, for one moment of this lifetime. You're here. You're you. You are.

You think you deserve to be left out to rot with the waste. You don't. _You don't._

"Can I walk you home?", Akira asks, and it's not a resolution but it's a start. You nod and let him pull you to a stand. Tomorrow, you promise yourself that you'll be quicker. You'll stare into the light flicker. You'll try.

Something inside of you changes.

This sunrise collects like the rest. The one from the train, the one that made you feel better, the one with the pink clouds that you get confused with the one from March. This is the one where you feel at home.


End file.
